


A Pair of Firsts

by geekyjez



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Nudity, fade to black before the smut, it's hard to get frisky when you're both wearing armor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3511226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Alistair, this is the first time he's ever been with a woman. For Azenor, it's the first time she's ever had someone she wanted to truly make love to, rather than simply take to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pair of Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> A paid commission for [kingalistairtheiriin](http://kingalistairtheiriin.tumblr.com/) featuring her warrior Warden Azenor Cousland.

It was painfully obvious that something was bothering Alistair.

He’d been unusually quiet at camp that night. When he did speak, it was as if he was trying a little too hard to appear nonchalant, throwing out jokes that did not quite stick their landings followed by awkward, embarrassed laughter. Azenor went about her normal routine for the evening – polishing her sword, tending to the campfire. Each time her eyes met his, he quickly diverted his gaze, unable to hide the fact that he’d been staring.

She didn’t really know what to make of it.

Azenor had always found Alistair to be a bit odd. At first, she really didn’t know what to think of him. He was so laid back, so free-spirited. He lived a life that lacked the rigid structure she was used to and yet did not seem bothered in the slightest. He existed fully in the moment, saying the first thing that came to mind, acting impulsively, often with little foresight or concern for the consequences. It was so unlike her, so distant from her constant self-critical perfectionism. He was comfortable with who he was rather than striving to be something more.

It wasn’t long before she grew fond of their differences, however. He was a breath of fresh air, a balm to her tension. Her laughter came freely and easily with him, her smiles broad and genuine and somehow brighter than before. He wasn’t like the suitors her parents had forced her to entertain, whose egos she was trained to coax with insincere grins and polite chuckling. He wasn’t like the men she’d lain with either; affairs that were brief and few and whose aims were no greater than to fulfill a physical need. With Alistair, it all felt more real. She didn’t find herself flirting to placate or impress him or even to seduce him. If anything it started because she liked to call his bluff when he’d say something suggestive just to watch him stammer and blush like the Chantry boy he’d once been.

But it wasn’t simply for amusement anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time.

Alistair finally got up the nerve to approach her. “Can we…” He stopped himself as she looked up from her seat by the fire. His lips pursed before he started again. “I mean, can I just…” Another false-start. She peered at him curiously as he let out a short huff, lowering his head. “Can we talk?”

She couldn’t help but grin. “We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”

“No, I mean…” He paused. “Yes, well, yes, we are, but-” He glanced over at Zevran and Leliana. The pair did not seem particularly interested in anything outside of their own conversation, yet he was keenly aware of their close proximity. “I was hoping we could go somewhere more private. Alone.”

“That is usually what private means,” she teased, brushing herself off as she stood. “Lead the way, then.” He appeared pleased, the corner of his lips quirking, yet his apprehension remained, hands still nervously balling into fists at his sides.

They walked a short distance from camp. Seclusion was not difficult to find – the clearing where they’d set up their tents was surrounded by a dense forest and soon the light from the campfire was lost among the trees. The moon was full that night, pooling a hazy glow over their path, twinkling with the occasional flicker of fireflies.

“All right,” he began, his pace slowing to a stop. She stilled, turning to look at him. “I guess I really don’t know how to ask you this.”

She frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No. No – quite the opposite, actually. I think. I hope. I mean- It’s not bad or frightening or… well, it _is_ , but not like…”

“Alistair.” She gave him an incredulous look. “You’re rambling. What’s this about?”

He hung his head slightly, letting out a sigh. “How do I say this? You’d think it’d be easier, I mean it’s only natural, but… every time I’m around you, I feel as if my head’s about to explode. I- I can’t think straight.”

She cocked an eyebrow, tilting her head. “… thank you?”

“I don’t mean it like that,” he corrected quickly. “I mean… alright. Fine. Let me start over.”

“Probably a good plan.”

“Here’s the thing,” he began, his gloved hand cradling her own. “Being near you makes me crazy – but I can’t imagine being without you.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, his eyes softening. “Not ever.”

She couldn’t help but smile, lowering her gaze. This growing affection between them was different than anything she had ever felt before. Even considering how apprehensive that sometimes made her, she couldn’t deny that she felt the same way.

He reached forward, tipping her chin up to look at him. “I don’t know how to say this another way,” he began softly. “I want to spend the night with you. Tonight.”

A tangled mess of excitement and apprehension fluttered in her stomach, her green eyes widening. “I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place…” he continued, “but when will it _ever_ be perfect? We’re Grey Wardens in the middle of a Blight. Kind of the definition of the absolute worst circumstances.”

“True.”

“But if it weren’t for that,” he said, brushing his fingers along her cheek, faintly dragging cool curved metal against her skin, “we never would have met. We sort of stumbled into each other and even with all of this madness around us, I still found myself falling for you.”

She reached up, placing her hand over his, pressing the side of her face into his touch. She had already admitted that she loved him. That was a hurdle she had crossed weeks ago and yet still she found herself left with a nervous tension creeping up her spine. She’d never slept with anyone she’d truly cared for before. Sex was something done for fun, for the pursuit of pleasure, and while she wanted to share that with him, she couldn’t brush away her doubt. She didn’t want to have a meaningless encounter with him and yet she’d never experienced any other kind.

“Is this too fast?” he asked, his brow tightening. “Maybe it’s… I don’t know. All I know is how I feel about you. I’ve never _done_ this before…”

“I know.”

“I want it to be with you. While we still have the chance... in case…”

She could see the path his thoughts were wandering down and she guided him back to her by pulling his hand from her cheek, her fingers curling around his own. “I’m not going anywhere, Alistair. And neither are you.”

“You don’t know that,” he said, giving his head a gentle shake. “ _I_ don’t know that.”

Her lips spread into a small grin. “Then I guess we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

His smile was uncertain, his brow lifting. “Is that a yes?”

She laughed. “Yes. Alistair. That means yes.”

His grin widened as he reached out, cupping the back of her head and drawing her forward into a kiss. She pressed herself up onto her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, the warmth of his mouth pooling and spreading until she could feel it like a gentle caress inside her chest. They had kissed before on a number of occasions, but those had each been fairly chaste and over far too soon. She was ready for something different. She flicked her tongue between his lips teasingly, practically purring with satisfaction as he moaned, his arms slipping around her waist, eagerly pulling her against him. His breastplate pressed hard against her own, the edges of his rerebraces digging into the chainmail at her sides. Not the most comfortable sensation, but in that moment she couldn’t care. The pressure of his arms was enveloping, the feel of his tongue making her toes curl.

He drove forward a few steps until her back was against a tree, accompanied by the not-so-subtle clamor of metal-on-metal, his armor shifting against her own. His hands moved up to cup her jaw, holding her head into place as he dove deeper into the kiss, his tongue sinking into her mouth. He was eager, she’d give him that. One hand wandered lower, gripping her hip, brushing along her outer thigh. Even through layers of leather and mail, she could feel the weight of his touch stirring heat into her blood and she found herself wildly jealous that she could not do the same for him. Not through heavy plate.

She eased her mouth from his, panting slightly as she looked up into his eyes. “I assume you didn’t intend for us to do this here?”

He grinned, lowering his lips to the crook of her neck. “Well, _noooo_ ,” he murmured, playfully drawing out the word. “I was thinking your tent would probably be a better option. Though I can’t say I’m exactly picky.”

She giggled, her brows lifting. “Really, now?” She purred, hooking her leg against his side, pulling him flush against her. When she spoke, her voice was low, sultry, murmuring against his lips as her gloved fingers snaked through his hair. “Not picky? So you’d take me right here? Out in the open? And when I start moaning your name and the others come to investigate…” She rolled her hips ever-so-slightly against his own and treasured how his eyes widened.

It had the desired effect. His cheeks were hot, blushing hard as he stammered. “No, no. You’re right. The tent. Good. _Is_ good. We should-” She caught his lips in another kiss before lowering her leg, gently pushing him back.

“Shall we?”

It was a struggle not too look too eager as they moved back into camp, trying to stifle grins and calm their hitched pace. Azenor caught a mildly amused look from Zevran as Alistair ducked down into her tent but she quickly looked away, moving to follow him.

Their tents were relatively small – too short to stand at full height. Alistair knelt, his hands already on her waist as she secured the flap, gently pulling her towards him. She turned in his arms, her lips caught by his own as he kissed her again, but she quickly broke away from his mouth. “Let’s get some of this armor off first,” she whispered. She wanted to be able to feel him. He was already tossing aside his gauntlets as he nodded, fingers eagerly tugging at the lacings at his shoulders, trying to shrug off his armor like an unwilling sleeve. She grinned, helping him, slipping off her gloves and loosening the other arm’s ties, gradually peeling it away. She eased him into sitting back, stealing kisses to his neck as she worried the straps to his breastplate loose. He inhaled sharply as she sucked hard against his skin and the sound shivered down her spine. There was a bit of a scramble to free his legs, slowly revealing his breeches. Soon the clattering pile of armor was shoved unceremoniously into the far corner of the tent.

She kissed him then, pressing him down onto his back as she ran her hands along the linen of his shirt, able to properly feel the shape of his body. He worried her belt loose, removing the filigreed panels that hung about her waist. His fingers trailed absentmindedly to her sides, searching for the strapping that held her breastplate. His lips grew distracted against hers as he continued to grope blindly for a way to remove it, his brow drawing tighter the longer he went without success. She laughed, reaching up under her arm to start releasing the plates. With her guidance, they soon had her down to her tunic and leggings.

Their pace slowed then, kisses moving to the rhythm of steady breaths, hands taking advantage of the newly revealed sensitivity their armor had been denying them. He learned that she shivered as his hands slid down her back – so he did it again, taking his time with the descent, circling fingertips until she was writhing against him. That, in itself, was a reward and she felt him shift beneath her, letting out a soft moan.

She pulled her lips away from his, inching lower as she hooked the hem of his tunic, sliding his shirt up. He sat up just enough to let her slip it over his shoulders, watching her with cautious interest. He appeared slightly uncomfortable under her gaze as she took in the details of him – the hair, the scars, the contours of muscle. She traced an old scar near his collarbone with a light touch and she could hear his breathing shift.

“Where did you get this?” she whispered.

“I…uh… ” he cleared his throat. “Templar training.”

She hummed softly in acknowledgement, leaning down to place a kiss along it. As she did, his hands slid up under her tunic, easing it off of her. He seemed decidedly distracted by the sight of her breastband as she continued her examination, touching a scar that crossed the length of his ribs on one side. “And this one?”

“Same thing. Different day.” This time a small sound caught in his throat as she kissed a short trail along the mark, letting her lips linger with each press.

“And this?” she murmured, dragging her nail lightly over an old wound on his lower abdomen. His back stiffened as she leaned down, his stomach jumping slightly as she traced it with her tongue before placing a kiss there.

There was a breathless quality to his voice when he answered. “Training.”

“Again?” she asked with a laugh. “Did they not give you a shield when you were training with the Templars?”

“What, those big shiny things?” he quipped. “I just thought they were for decoration.” He grinned before his gaze lowered once more, his expression softening. When he reached for the fastening to her breastband, his touch was cautious, his eyes darting up to her face, silently looking for approval. She laughed softly, nodding. He slipped it off of her, gaze lowering once more, taking in the sight of her as she knelt between his knees.

“Maker, you’re beautiful,” he breathed in a sigh. She could feel her cheeks growing hot as she smiled, leaning down, draping herself against him until her chest lay upon his own, her arms moving to embrace him.

“If you find a pair of breasts that breathtaking, I suspect the rest of the evening will come as a bit of a shock.”

He smirked, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I may even be incapable of forming full sentences. Perish the thought, I know. Whatever will you do without my charming wit?”

She kissed him again – slow and deliberate until their breathing matched one another’s, until she could feel nothing but warmth against the press of his chest and his lips and his hands. She kissed him in a way that was distinctly his to own – soft and loving and reserved for him alone. No one else had ever made her feel this way and she suspected that none ever would.

She broke the kiss gradually and he pushed stray strands of hair from her face. “I love you,” he whispered. “You know that, right? More than anything in the world.”

Her expression softened and she leaned down, sliding her cheek along his own, her lips pressing to his skin as she lowered herself to his ear. “I love you too.” And for the first time those words felt truly real, unbreakable and unrestrained, the sound of them filling a part of her that she didn’t know was empty. He laced his fingers with her own and she tightened her grip on his hand as his mouth explored her throat, her eyes drifting shut.

In that moment she knew two things with absolute certainty: she loved him more than life itself and not even an archdemon could keep her from being at his side.

Not now. Not ever. 


End file.
